


Monster

by pinkimagination



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Dark, Gen, Implied Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkimagination/pseuds/pinkimagination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They each have their own monsters eating away at them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Murasakibara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 682  
> chapter warnings: possibly OOC, language  
> disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket (else this would just be fleshed out in canon) or its characters. I do not own the song lyrics used at the beginning of each chapter.  
> A/N: inspired by the many songs on my iPod titled "Monster". I assigned one song to each gom member and wrote a little "drabble" on it. Enjoy!

Murasakibara

_I feel it deep within; it’s just beneath the skin. I must confess that I feel like a_ **monster**.  
I hate what I’ve become. The darkness has just begun. I must confess that I feel like a **monster**.  
-Skillet _(Monster)_

He doesn’t know how it starts. Maybe it’s just his personality.

He generally doesn’t like people. People are annoying, with the different ways that they talk and act and even walk. He especially hates excitable people—like Kise-chin; _why won’t he shut up?_ He doesn’t like people who take pride in what they do, or who try to push their opinions on him—like Mine-chin and Kuro-chin; _stop talking_. People who act like they’re perfect or are too controlling also get on his nerves—like Mido-chin and Aka-chin.

He doesn’t like any of them, really. But he pretends to be civil and only gets in fights when they ask for it. He’s surprised Kuro-chin dares to butt heads with him more often than anyone else—always defending his love of basketball. It makes him sick.

Basketball isn’t something to be loved; it’s something to do if you’re good—and Kuro-chin is not good. As such, Kuro-chin should stop preaching. Honestly, it’s annoying. He is better than Kuro-chin, and he hates basketball. So obviously loving the sport doesn’t _matter_.

To prove his point, he’s made it a personal goal to completely crush all of them—utterly and entirely. They’re practically begging for it anyway, what with Mine-chin’s, _“The only one who can beat me is me.”_ and Mido-chin’s perfect shots. He likes to see Kise-chin cry and Aka-chin needs to be put down. Then Kuro-chin will learn.

Mine-chin is sick one day, and he offers to play one-on-one with Kise-chin instead. The other is surprised (shocked, even), but accepts nonetheless. When he inevitably beats Kise-chin, he’s disappointed with the blond’s reaction. _“Once more! I have to beat you if I want to beat Aominecchi!”_ How insulting. He refuses and leaves.

Mido-chin refuses any one-on-ones. He’s too busy perfecting his shots.

Mine-chin gives a weird excuse and leaves when he asks.

And then there’s Aka-chin. Ah, that had been fun. _See what loving something a little too much can do?_ He’s to blame for twisting Aka-chin unrecognizably; he’s the one who shook the captain to the very core with the prospect of losing. Kuro-chin actually looks unsure. _He’s_ the one who turned Aka-chin into a monster.

And he couldn’t be any more proud of himself.

Everything is fine for a while. Yosen’s okay. He meets Muro-chin and they become close—or, at least, as close as he’s willing to get to someone who loves basketball so much. His other teammates are… alright.

They’re an unstoppable force—the Shield of Aegis. Their defense is impenetrable.

Or rather, they thought it was.

Somehow the unorthodox styles of the Seirin team had managed to beat them— _Kuro-chin_ had beaten him.

It stings. He’s honestly shocked. He doesn’t know what to do with himself—he’s never lost before. But there Kuro-chin is, sharing high fives with his other stupid teammates. And there’s Kiyoshi even, grinning like he’s won the lottery, or maybe it’s more like a father’s smile when he son comes back from a lengthy, deadly war…

Whatever. He certainly doesn’t care. It’s not like… like he _liked_ basketball anyway. Wasn’t he just about ready to throw the towel in moments ago?

So why is he crying?

Belatedly, he realizes that yes, basketball held a large place in his heart. And he didn’t hate it; he… kinda liked it. Okay, more than kinda (not that he’s going to admit it out loud after all the shit he’s said). And now, as he walks out of the stadium, he realizes what he’s done.

He _ruined_ Aka-chin. And he can’t take that back.

Muro-chin is talking softly to him, saying meaningless things that he clings to. Muro-chin doesn’t ridicule him for continuing to cry, doesn’t roll his eyes for being such a baby. Instead he just does his best to comfort him. It’s more than a **monster** like him deserves.


	2. Midorima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 668  
> warnings: kinda OOC  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: I'm a little on the fence about how this one turned out. Midorima is one of the few characters I make excuses for, aha. I struggle writing him, but his POV is always one I fall back on. Also IDK about you guys, but I'm really liking this style. Sure, pretty much every sentence starts with "he", but I feel a little more in the mind of the character.

Midorima

 _Now this evil is taking control, and where’s our freedom now? Taking all my love away from me, you’re a **monster**. So sharpen your teeth (makes it easier to bleed)… When I’m hearing your screams, and you’re dead asleep, it’s all a show. Look what you’ve done to us… You’re a **monster**.  
_ -GHOST TOWN _(Monster)_

It’s all Akashi’s fault, he’ll tell people. He won’t let on about how the others had also warped and twisted him.

None of them acknowledged him. He didn’t want much, just a, _“Nice shot!”_ every once in a while would have sufficed. But no, he only received sneers and _that will do’s_ after his fantastic, no, _flawless_ plays.

He was too good for them. He deserved more.

So he practiced more. He practiced until his fingertips bled. One or two of Teikou’s basketballs were stained unsightly with his blood (though he lied when questioned about it). No one knew—probably not even Akashi (he still doesn’t quite grasp the extent of the red haired tyrant’s knowledge). And still, no one cares when his shooting accuracy bumps up from ninety percent to one-hundred. He can’t feel the tips of his fingers any longer, and it’s all in vain. He’s not the only one growing. They’re all too preoccupied with themselves to notice him falling into this pit of hate—hate for them, hate for the color red.

He doesn’t stop when his fingers begin to bleed anymore. If anything, the crimson bubbling out of his worn skin pushes him to concentrate harder. The red just mocks him—reminds him of how utterly _indifferent_ Akashi is. He _hates_ Akashi, hates him, hates him, _hates_ him. The redhead makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like this by anyone, let alone their apparent captain. He can’t say he’s ever seriously considered Akashi to be above him like that.

Akashi’s approval had been the thing he had strove for, his pushing factor. Now he just wants to teach Akashi true defeat, despair. He wants the self-proclaimed “emperor” to know how he made him feel—how the redhead had completely warped him. He dreams about, but even in his dreams he falls short.

He can’t _stand_ it.

And then he finds himself at Shutoku, and there’s Takao.

Takao, who hangs on him and compliments his plays. Takao, who brags about him to their opponents. Takao, who tells him, _“Nice shot, Shin-chan!”_

Shutoku lets him release a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, lets him uncoil tensed muscles, lets him feel like he’s part of a team, but most of all makes him feel _appreciated_.

Red leaves his mind, allowing him to relax.

But then Winter Cup rolls around and red returns.

He just wants to teach Akashi his place, let him experience everything he’s put him through. _“You’re not good enough.” “You’ll never defeat me like that.” “Are you even trying?”_ But fate is not kind to him. And all the hate that had slithered to the back of his mind hits him again, but this time it isn’t hate for red. No, now he can’t stand the color green.

Self-loathing consumes him, and he realizes that’s what it’s been all along. He hadn’t wanted to destroy red, he had hated green. _Green, green, green._ It’s an ugly color, representing _jealousy_ and _greed_. Was it any wonder he had been doomed from the very beginning?

Takao tries to comfort him, but it’s a lost cause. He is lost in the hate that had built up for over three years. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. So he does what he had always done whenever he’d wanted to stop thinking.

He practices.

_“He’s so diligent.”_

_“What a freak. Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”_

_“Do you think we should make him stop before he ruins the equipment? His fingers…”_

Their words don’t reach his ears. The **monster** in his head talks over their noise. He is oblivious to anything besides his shots. _His perfect, flawless shots…_


	3. Aomine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1,060  
> warnings: possibly OOC, possible language  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: alright! on to Aomine! this wasn't supposed to be so much longer, but it got away from me. I kind of want to explore this one even more, but I'll save that for later. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy Aomine's monster~

Aomine

 _When I fell apart, something changed in my heart. As you can tell from these scars, I’m not the man that you knew before. And I found something that makes me feel alive, yes somehow dead inside… And it makes no sense, yet it still helps me see. So am I soon to be the **monster** I despise?  
-_NateWantsToBattle _(Monster Inside)_

It claws at his insides, pounds in his skull, begs to be let out. He doesn’t know exactly what it is; he doesn’t want to know. Most of the time it just lingers in the back of his mind, but the times it takes over are overwhelming. It’s feral and ugly, wild and uncontrollable. He used to let it run free, take over whenever it wanted. He had been so naïve.

It used to be an asset, the only way a kid like him could beat practiced adults on the street courts. But then it changed—evolved. It wanted more than just victory. It wanted utter domination. He hadn’t understood at the time, but he let it do what it wanted. After all, it made him the best.

There was one time it had come out when he wasn’t playing basketball, and that had been the last time he had voluntarily let it take over so easily. He doesn’t really remember the details; everything is hazy when it comes to the other side of him. He just remembers arguing with Satsuki, and then suddenly she was on the ground, looking up at him fearfully—but more than that, she was _bleeding_. _Because of you._ After that he’d tried his hardest to bury this thing inside him.

He doesn’t know what to call it. It’s more than just a feeling; it’s like a whole other being inside of him—one that isn’t quite human. It’s unstoppable; its only goal is to utterly demolish anything that gets in its way.

It scares him.

Sometimes, when he looks in the mirror and catches his own reflection, he sees it. Lurking behind his eyes, taunting him. _You can’t hide me away forever._ He’s afraid. What will happen if he keeps this thing locked inside too long? Will he hurt someone else?

He doesn’t want that to happen. He doesn’t want to see anyone else cry because of him. So he’s always cautious. He’s more careful than anyone would give him credit for, which is how it needs to be. No one can know. Even Satsuki, who had seen this dark side of him already (she never mentions it; he hopes she has forgotten).

And it’s fine, because he has Tetsu. Tetsu keeps him in line and Tetsu provides the support needed to keep the thing hidden deep inside.

But then something—or rather some _one_ —happens during his second year of middle school, and the whole balance is upset.

_Kise Ryouta._

The beast inside him is intrigued by the blond model— _the golden boy._ It wants the other in so many different ways—he doesn’t understand at all. It’s amazing what just a simple look from the blond would do to him. It plays nice at first, making him that much more wary of its intentions. But then Kise starts getting good, and that’s when its true nature rears its ugly head.

It wants to utterly _decimate_ Kise; it wants nothing left of the blond, nothing to salvage. It _yearns_ to toy with Kise, to give him false hope that _yes, you can beat me if you just keep trying_ , but that’s not possible.

_The only one who can beat me is the thing inside me._

Tetsu can’t help; Kise won’t let him. _One-on-one, I wanna play you one-on-one!_ It gets so bad he can’t even be near Kise anymore. So he forces them apart, severs their relationship.

_“Aominecchi! One-on-one?”_

_“Just go home. I don’t feel like playing with you.”_

He knows ( _god, he knows_ ) he’s only hurting Kise, and in turn he’s hurting himself, but this is necessary. He is afraid of just how far the thing inside him will go, because it isn’t just concerned with basketball anymore.

At the end of his Teikou years, he feels secure. No one could touch him; he was the best. Kise strayed dangerously close, but they were going to different high schools in different prefectures, so it wouldn’t be a big deal. If they met up at Inter High and the Winter Cup (which they undoubtedly would), he’d be able to reign himself in because it _was just one game_.

And then stupid Bakagami showed up and everything was knocked out of balance.

Kagami, at first, looked like just another wannabe; someone who could barely manage to hold a candle to the flame someone like Kise could light in him. That game against him, though, had disgruntled the beast within him, and the game against Kise was a mess. The thing had bubbled up and spat nasty words, horrible things that kept Kise at a distance even after things were said and done.

But then came Winter Cup, and things changed. Kagami had evolved into the challenger the thing inside of him had been waiting for. He was relentless, refusing to give up. Victory was the only thing in the redhead’s mind, and he wasn’t afraid of any of the obstacles standing in his way. Kagami’s candle had managed to grow into a raging inferno, easily consuming Kise’s fire. And that was when he had discovered Kagami also had a beast inside of him. Once the thought clicked in his head, any semblance of self-control went to hell. The thing took over, and promised absolute destruction on Seirin. He wouldn’t stop until all of them were left utterly despaired.

But Kagami’s beast destroyed his.

Looking back, he doesn’t see the thing hidden inside of his new rival as a **monster**. No, it feels more like the opposite. Kagami’s beast wasn’t destructive. He thinks maybe Tetsu had some sort of influence of Kagami’s inner demons; he wishes he had known Tetsu sooner; he hopes Tetsu can forgive him.

He is optimistic about the future. He can face the things he’d be too cowardly to address before; he can make amends with the people he’s hurt (Satsuki, Tetsu, Kise); he can once again embrace and love what he’d learned to hate.

He just hopes his **monster** really is gone.


	4. Kise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1,682  
> chapter warnings: possibly OOC, language, implied drug abuse, implied abuse, implied self-harm (just a whole lot of implications being thrown everywhere; though I suppose you can take it however you want to)  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: well, uh. hi there. it's been a while. whoops. anyway, I'm back, and I've brought an extra long chapter. it's also my favorite, and like Aomine's, I'd love to get even more in-depth with it-later. ;) enjoy~

Kise

 _Just when you had me down, I go changing my ways. It’s just part of my game. This is a cautionary cry to you, before you figure out what I’ve been turned into… Did I ever think to tell you that I am a_ **monster**? You have never seen this side of me… You won’t believe it until you feel it. If your love is blind, I guess that’s why you didn’t see it…  
I am a **monster**.  
-Kris Allen _(Monster)_

In Aominecchi, he sees nothing but his past self.

Aominecchi is bright; Aominecchi is happy. He’s prideful, and takes joy in what he does. It’s refreshing, and yet sickening.

When he first joins the Teikou basketball team, he really does want to be just as cool as Aominecchi. He wants to be on top with the other boy. He wants Aominecchi to look him in the eye and say, _“Good job, Kise.”_

Aominecchi won’t. None of them will.

It isn’t just that, though. There’s so much pressure piled atop his shoulders, so much expectation. It weighs down his chest; sometimes he can’t breathe. Some days he can barely get out of bed. The whole world wants nothing but perfection from him, but how can he deliver when he’s the furthest thing from perfect?

_"Smile, Kise-kun.”_

_“I expect nothing but the very best, Ryouta-kun.”_

_“Don’t fuck up again, you hear me?”_

_“If you mess up, I’ll make sure you regret it.”_

_“You’re either on top, or you’re nothing. There’s no in-between, you got me?”_

_“ **Smile** , Kise-kun.”_

So he smiles and he laughs and he acts like everything’s perfect (that _he’s_ perfect), even though he’s dying inside. He pretends this job isn’t eating away at him, that the medication isn’t falsifying his emotions, that he isn’t being used over and over again like some mindless plaything.

**_“See, it’s not so hard. Just lie through your teeth and hide your pain behind your mask of_ unending _happiness.”_**

His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself; he can’t breathe past the hurt. The pills (another secret he must keep) feel heavier each time they slide down his throat.

**_“Stop taking them. You don’t need artificial emotions. You just need me.”_ **

He looks at Aominecchi’s happy, genuine smile, and he wonders why he can’t be like that. It angers him; _what gives you the right to grin like that?_ He wants to wipe that smile right off the idiot’s face. He realizes he used to be the same way, bright and excitable. Twisted thoughts grab hold of his mind, and he knows exactly how to alleviate the pain inside.

**_“Good boy.”_ **

He pours on the sugar, plastering smiles on his face, being as bright and happy as he can manage, and getting as close as he possibly can to Aominecchi, to all of the Teikou starters. They think lowly of him, treat him as something to toy around with. They don't realize it's just an act. Still, he takes it all, biding his time.

_“You’re really annoying, you know that?”_

_“Please don’t touch me. I don’t want your stupidity to rub off on me.”_

_“Can’t you just leave me alone?”_

_“Die.”_

_“You are nothing to me.”_

He’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so much.

**_“Just hold out a little longer. They’ll all fear you soon enough.”_ **

Even the fake smiles become strained the more time he spends with them. They push, and push, and _push_. He feels his façade dissolving, feels his real self cracking. To compensate, he takes more pills.

He hates them all—can’t _stand_ them. And that’s why they deserve this so much. He’ll break them all, destroy their fragile pride. He wanted to start with Midorimacchi, wanted to topple his shaky supports so badly, but he knows Aominecchi is the most important. Aominecchi’s fall would be the devastation he needed to keep going, keep living. As such, he continues to hold back.

There’s a voice lingering in the back of his mind, begging him to stop. _“It’ll hurt you more in the long run,”_ it tells him. _“Move on—or accept them.”_ This voice goes ignored. The thrill Aominecchi’s bored expression brings him is too much to give up. He needs to see that fighting spirit be utterly broken, and then he’ll deliver the crushing blow.

He’s not sure why, but it hurts when Aominecchi begins declining his pleas for one-on-ones. He should feel satisfied, right? This is what he wanted, after all. He wanted to break Aominecchi. _And yet…_ It hurts at first, but then everything feels weirdly numb after a while— _hollow_. The winds begin returning, and panic rushes in with it. He can’t be bored of this game already. He hasn’t even won yet. He can’t win yet—not when Aominecchi isn’t desperate yet, isn’t completely hopeless.

The voice in his head gets more desperate, _“Reach out to them—don’t let them leave you.”_ He talks to his psychiatrist. She prescribes him more pills, but they don’t shut up the voice and only leave him tired and unable to practice. No one thinks anything’s wrong for the few days of club activities he misses. They just assume he was ‘busy’. If that didn’t speak volumes for how much they cared for him, he doesn’t know what will.

It’s easier in high school, if only because he doesn’t keep up the same, cheerful mask. This mask is a little more relaxed, a little less jubilant. It’s a bit more natural. It’s fortunate he decides to tone down his attitude, as the Kaijou captain doesn’t appreciate the cheer at all. It also makes it easier to deal with the assholes that mock him.

_“It’s the golden-boy model.”_

_“Tch, I don’t see what’s so fucking great about him.”_

_“He’s just like some stupid dog. Just kick him around a few times; he’ll learn his place.”_

He ends up being the one teaching _them_ their place.

**_“See how good it feels to be the one in control? Your dear Akashicchi made the right decision to rule with an iron fist.”_ **

Inter High draws him one step closer to his goal. Unknowingly, Kurokocchi’s defeat at Aominecchi’s hands only sped up his plans. During the Touou versus Kaijou game, he gives Aominecchi enough of a taste of his full power to give him hope, but not enough to satiate the other. He feels a dominating force radiating off the power forward, and it’s enough to cause the beast in him to tremble. He doesn’t fully understand the meaning behind the feral look in that navy gaze, but he assumes it only has to do with the game. After all, it had to have been the most exciting thing Aominecchi’s witnessed recently. He estimates it’ll only take until after Winter Cup for the final phase of his plan to be ready, and then he’ll _utterly destroy_ Aominecchi .

But he doesn’t get that chance. In the first round of the Winter Cup, Seirin defeats Touou.

It’s crushing for him to even watch. Because it takes only a split second for all the effort and time he’d poured into the last two and a half years is wasted. He’ll never see his pay off now, never see true devastation in Aominecchi’s eyes.

It’s not _fair_.

Even worse, he can’t even reach Murasakibaracchi or Akashicchi in time—not when he’s already injured. Shougo-kun makes everything worse, and he can’t even pay back Seirin for what they’d taken from him.

And yet, the voice in his head _still_ doesn’t shut up. If anything, it’s _louder_ now. _“It isn’t too late, go be with them.”_

After that game against Seirin, once he’s finally alone, he realizes what he’d really wanted all along. He breaks down, _I just wanted your respect_. _I just wanted you to accept me_. But now he’s left all alone. No one messages him; no one calls. He’s left to drown in his own thoughts.

But even when he tries to reach out, he’s blocked out from all sides. Because now Aominecchi is looking at Kagamicchi with the respect he hadn’t realized he’d truly spent years hopelessly longing for. And Aominecchi and Kurokocchi have made up, and everything is fine between them (hell, the ace actually bothers to help Kurokocchi learn how to shoot baskets—something the shadow hadn’t asked _him_ for help with), and Aominecchi _still won’t talk to him_. Midorimacchi never wanted anything to do with him, and Murasakibaracchi didn’t even _like_ him. Akashicchi’s too stuck in his own problems to give him any attention.

**_“See, I told you. No one wants you. You should have broken them sooner, saved yourself the pain.”_ **

Something in his chest seizes painfully. He thinks maybe it’s his stomach trying to send all the pills he swallowed back up, because it sure as hell isn’t his heart. No, that stupid thing became rather obsolete years ago; now all it does is keep him alive.

A dull hate settles in his body, and he wishes he didn’t have to see in color. So he swears off basketball. It’s just hurt him in the long run, and none of it was worth it.

**_“That’s right; come crawling back, sobbing your heart out. Now you know why only I should be in control, yes? Lie down like a good dog; I’ll take care of you.”_ **

He stares down at his injured leg, the useless limb smeared with equally hopeless red. The black and blue marring his skin is hardly visible underneath all that crimson. A hollow laugh bubbles up from his throat. _How ironic_. He doesn’t know how it’s possible, but he feels even more numb than before. He supposes there’s always room for improvement. But the twinge of hurt in his chest is still present, and he doesn’t know how to make it go away.

Before he decides to completely give up on his former teammates as well, he reaches out one last time. He hopes, _it’s over; we can go back, can’t we?_ He pleads, _catch me._

**_“Stop pretending. They were never your friends. Who could ever like you? Just let me in; I’ll make all of the pain end. With a monster in control, they can’t possibly deny you.”_ **

The fall is devastating.


	5. Akashi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 849  
> warnings: OOC, kinda lazy tbh  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: soo, i got kinda lazy with this one, sorry. Akashi gets explored so much in canon, and i felt like i was being really redundant here, and just wanted to move on. also i don't really know how to write Akashi, or how to explain what happened to him in canon, aha.

Akashi

 _If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me? And if I seemed dangerous, would you be scared?_  
I'm only a man with a candle to guide me. I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me… I've turned into a  _ **monster**_ _,_  
and it keeps getting stronger.  
-Imagine Dragons ( _Monster_ )

Everything just suddenly spirals out of control.

He watches his teammates fall apart. For once, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know why Murasakibara feels the need to challenge Kuroko's beliefs; he doesn't know why Midorima is so full of hate; he doesn't know what's going on in Aomine's head; he doesn't know why Kise is slowly killing himself.

He doesn't know, and that scares him.

He may claim to know best, but that doesn't make him anything more than human. He's afraid to reach out, unsure of what any of them need. He really does want to help them, but  _it_  won't let him.

 _It_  takes over, thinking  _it's_  some sort of  _god_ , and demands total authority. The others have no choice; they'd already feared him, why would they cross him?

And now he can only watch as they all self-destruct.

 _It_  certainly doesn't care about their wellbeing. All  _it_  cared about was winning, and retaining  _its_  absolute authority. If anything,  _it_  only acted as a catalyst to their self-destruction. He hates his own weakness; he hates not being strong enough to hold  _it_  back.

The thing inside of him didn't make an appearance until after the untimely passing of his mother. She had been his rock, the one holding him together. His father was cold, but the distance between them hadn't made itself known until the glue holding their small family together had dissolved. From then on, he'd placed walls around himself to keep him from getting hurt again—and within those walls, the  _Emperor_ was born.

_The burden placed heavily on his shoulders by his father was too much for Seijuurou. He needed someone absolute in their drive and resolve to keep things in order. That's why I was created, why I was born. Without me, the young heir would have snapped neatly in two._

He sees everything the Emperor sees, feels it all, hears it all,  _tastes_  it all, but there isn't a single thing he can do when  _it_  is in control. He is merely a spectator within his own body. He cannot hold back the cruel words, nor can he prevent the harsh punishments dealt at the hand of the Emperor. He wants to scream, to be released from his own head, but he is trapped.

He still remembers the way Kise's face had crumpled when the Emperor had told him he was nothing more than a pawn.

_Every piece on the board has the right to know where they stand. I won't deny Ryouta his place._

He can distinctly recall pushing Midorima well-past his breaking point.

_I simply criticized his play. There's always room for improvement, and Shintarou is too soft._

He can't let go of Kuroko's devastated expression when the Emperor had told him he was no longer of use.

_Tetsuya was disposable. He hindered the team's performance, and so he needed to be cut. I will not apologize for doing what was best for the team's victory._

He doesn't want to hurt anyone anymore. But he can't stop the words falling from his own lips, and his honeyed tone coerces them all to fall apart in his hands. He's the one responsible for twisting and breaking his teammates; he's the one who shattered their bonds and used their talents.

Sometimes he wishes Nijimura had never stepped down, that he had never become captain. Giving the Emperor so much control over the team was the beginning of their downfall. Nijimura would have been able to keep Aomine and Murasakibara in line without breaking their spirits; Nijimura would have known what to do about Midorima and Kise; Nijimura wouldn't have utterly destroyed Kuroko.

_Shuuzou was hardly worthy of such a title. He wasn't ruthless enough to lead a team full of_ _**monsters** _ _._

**Monsters**  … yes, he supposes that is what they'd all become—because of him.

He barely remembers a time when basketball was purely played for fun. How long has it been since he picked up a basketball for the sole intention of playing, as opposed to winning? When did his escape turn into his demise?

_You needed this, Seijuurou, just as you needed me. We took satisfaction in breaking those_ _**monsters** _ _. We relished in breaking them as much as Father relished in breaking you._

He wishes Midorima had defeated him—defeated the Emperor. But instead the Emperor had mocked Midorima, dealt the verbal equivalent of spitting on the other's outstretched hand. He vividly remembers the Emperor's thoughts,  _"He's worthless, weak. It's fortunate I got rid of him when I did."_

He remembers echoing those thoughts himself before realizing what he'd thought.

He remembers realizing that he was no better than the being he hated most.

It was Kuroko, of course, that set him free. Though the Seirin player was a shadow, it was his light that drove away the darkness within him.

And with regaining his freedom came a new, daunting task: Righting the wrongs he allowed to be committed.

Although the Emperor had been pushed away, his inner  **monster**  still hadn't been defeated—and neither had the others'.


	6. Kuroko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 923  
> warnings: kinda OOC  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: and here we are, done with the monsters (although Kuroko doesn't necessarily have a monster... at least not one as obvious as the others). i wanted his to be different, considering he's the "phatom sixth man" and not always considered one of the GOM. i'm excited to have these done, though, as i do have more plans for this story. in other words, i'm not done just yet~

Kuroko

 _I'll stop the whole world from becoming a_ _ **monster**_ _, and eating us alive. [You] Call me a traitor; I'm just collecting your victims. Don't you ever wonder how we survived?_  
Now that you're gone, the world is ours.  
-Paramore _(Monster)_

He knows; he's always known.

He knows how Murasakibara-kun wants nothing more than to crush them all; he knows Midorima-kun loathes himself and all of them in return; he knows how Aomine-kun is afraid of the thing he loves most; he knows how Kise-kun needs a break from the world demanding too much from him; he knows of Akashi-kun's afflictions.

He knows. And he had been desperate to pull them above the disillusions they'd forced on themselves.

He had seen it all early on. At first, he tried to do something about it. But he hadn't known how to correct them, how to show they how wrong they were, and possibly acted as a catalyst to their fall. He'd aggravated Murasakibara-kun in his attempts to set him straight, unknowingly hurt Midorima-kun when he only needed reassurance, unintentionally aided Aomine-kun in reaching his peak early, couldn't see past the sweet lies Kise-kun fed them all to hide how much he was hurting, didn't know how to save Akashi-kun from himself. And in retrospect, he hated himself for it—as much as, if not more, than he hated their  **monsters** for what they'd done to ruin the lives of so many people.

He could only watch as these  **monsters**  warped and twisted his best friends.

What could he do for Murasakibara-kun, who hated basketball and enjoyed breaking others' spirits; for Midorima-kun, who wasted away without anyone noticing the hate encompassing him; for Aomine-kun, who was very likely losing his grasp on life; for Kise-kun, who was quite literally dying in front of their eyes; for Akashi-kun, who was utterly lost? How could someone like him single-handedly save all of them?

He couldn't, and they split up.

 _He couldn't do anything_  , and so he lost all of his friends.

When he started attending Seirin, he made a promise to himself. He vowed to bring the Generation of Miracles players back to themselves, to fix the wrongs they'd all committed. And Kagami-kun had been the perfect accomplice.

Kagami-kun had his own agenda, of course, and simply wanted to defeat the Generation of Miracles, but that was fine—that was what he wanted as well. Defeat was the only thing that would get through their thick heads anyway.

But as he stayed with Seirin, it became less about defeat, and more about victory. He found a family within Seirin—something he didn't quite have with the Generation of Miracles. No longer did he want his old Teikou teammates to lose; he wanted his Seirin teammates to  _win_.

It hadn't even been as difficult to beat them as he's anticipated. It was as if the Miracles had  _wanted_  to lose.

_"Kuro-chin's not even good at playing."_

_"You're holding us back."_

_"Maybe you should work on the basics a little, yeah?"_

_"Why is he my instructor? He can barely dribble!"_

_"You are unnecessary to me."_

They sure talked big for a bunch of  _losers_.

And by beating them, Aomine-kun, Murasakibara-kun, and Akashi-kun had been able to pull themselves out of the darkness and shake off their  **monsters**. Aomine-kun had stopped being afraid of his abilities now that he'd found a rival to reciprocate them; Murasakibara-kun had come to his own realizations regarding how childish and cruel he'd been; Akashi-kun had been able to shake off the "emperor" persona that had encompassed him. He'd gotten his friends back, and he was happy—for the most part.

One thing he hadn't anticipated, however, was that by losing, Kise-kun and Midorima-kun had fallen further into their own despair. The losses hit them hard. Last he'd heard, Kise-kun had quit basketball and Midorima-kun hardly stopped practicing since the Winter Cup. He hopes Kise-kun is simply being a sore loser, and attempts to connect with Midorima-kun. It's a lost cause, however. He isn't the one who either of them needs. But he isn't sure if they'll get the closure necessary to move on from their  **monsters** , because though they'd been saved from themselves, their bonds were still in pieces.

The hard part was finding a way to get them all to reconnect. They had flocked back to him in one way or another, but they couldn't turn to each other. They were ashamed of their behavior, and couldn't find an easy way to reconcile. Murasakibara-kun stayed away from them all, afraid of what his strength had turned him into; Aomine-kun was subdued, unwilling to let the violent side of him take over; Akashi-kun was avoidant, unsure of his current standings within their circle. Midorima-kun and Kise-kun were nowhere to be seen, and he could only hope the damage done to them wasn't entirely irreversible.

He knows they need help, and he's willing to give everything he has to fix the wrongs they've all committed.

He spoke to Kagami-kun about it once, more to get it off his chest than to get a real opinion. But surprisingly, Kagami-kun had expressed his own concern.

"They're idiots," he had said, "but I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider them my own friends at this point. And I can't just sit back and watch my friends drift apart after finally getting them back."

He's glad to have found such a caring person as his light. It was reassuring to know he wouldn't be in this alone, no matter what happened. He didn't have to worry about losing his friends, not when he had a team—a  _family_ —to back him up.

The  **monsters**  lurking within the Generation of Miracles didn't stand a chance (or so he hoped).


	7. You're Gonna Lose It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title: Monster  
> word count: 1,777  
> chapter warnings: possible ooc and language  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: decided to keep up with the short chapters to keep updates more frequent. next chapter (hopefully) won't take quite as long. in any case, i hope you enjoy this chapter

In the weeks after the Winter Cup, Kuroko receives a surprising amount of phone calls from people he’s not especially close to.

_Un_ surprisingly, most of these calls are from Takao. He was worried about Midorima, understandably. The shooting guard hasn’t been himself since Shutoku’s defeat at Rakuzan’s hands. He’d fallen into what Takao called a slump. Though they’d found a way to play in sync with each other, they hadn’t been able to replicate those plays since the Rakuzan game. In fact, Midorima’s style seemed to be degrading the more he practiced.

Himuro called him once (or rather, called Kagami and told him to pass the phone), asking for advice on how to cheer up Murasakibara. He said although Murasakibara was practicing more seriously, he wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t interested in his snacks anymore, and he was emotionally detached. Kuroko couldn’t offer much remote help, but promised he wouldn’t abandon his former teammate.

He even got a call from Kasamatsu. The former Kaijou captain was concerned about Kise’s recent behavior. The blond wasn’t showing up at practice, and when Kasamatsu confronted him, he didn’t seem completely there, like his mind was somewhere else.

The other Rakuzan starters (minus Mayuzumi) had called him once and demanded to know what had happened to Akashi. Rakuzan’s captain seemed forlorn and lost, less sure of himself when it came to leading his team. When Kuroko honestly didn’t have an answer, they instead wanted to know how to fix the redhead. Like with the others, all Kuroko could offer was promises to help.

He talks to Kagami, knowing he’d been through a similar situation with Himuro. The redhead emphasizes communication, saying whether he spoke to them one-on-one or all together, talking about things could only help. Kuroko acknowledges this; he only wishes he knew where to start.

Kagami reasons that Aomine and Kise would be the easiest to talk to, both the self-proclaimed best friends of the shadow. Aomine had made the most reforms on his own, and seemed ready to change, but unsure of how. Kise, on the other hand, seemed too content with cutting ties and ignoring anyone attempting to reach out. Midorima and Murasakibara are both stubborn, and don’t have the best history with Kuroko, but they aren’t necessarily unreasonable. Going off of what Takao had said, Midorima was stuck. Himuro had said Murasakibara was lost. Both needed a firm, guiding hand. Akashi is the only one Kagami expresses doubt for, and Kuroko doesn’t necessarily blame him, but he thinks Akashi could be an important asset when dealing with the others. The Rakuzan captain was wanting to make his own amends, but was tentative towards going about it.

The shadow decides to start by visiting Touou. He could talk to Aomine, and ask Momoi if she knows anything about the others. He knows she wants them to reconcile as much as he does.

He calls the pink haired girl ahead of time, telling her to wait with Aomine at the school. Though he knows his coach won’t like it, he even leaves practice early. He’s anxious, and right now basketball makes him feel worse.

Kuroko arrives at Touou minutes before their practice ends. Momoi intercepts him at the gym entrance. She greets him happily, glowing with pride as she shows off her team. He can’t help but smile in return, put at ease by her cheery disposition. “It’s nice to see you again, Momoi-san.” He tells her. She beams.

“Oi,” Kuroko turns to see Aomine approaching, the tanned teen out of breath and sweat dripping from his face. The sight relieves Kuroko. Aomine uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow. “What are you doing here, Tetsu?”

“I came to talk to you and Momoi-san.” Seirin’s shadow explains. “I need your help.”

Aomine’s frown deepens. “What, you need more shooting practice?” He asks, but his half-hearted jab falls flat.

Kuroko shakes his head. “It’s about the others.”

Aomine sighs. “I figured.” He walks off the court, reaching for his towel and water bottle before exiting the gym. Kuroko follows after quietly. The tanned ace takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and facing his former shadow. “Alright, hit me.”

The Seirin student takes a moment to steady himself and collect his thoughts. He doesn’t want to hurt the other, and he especially doesn’t want to cause another rift between them. There’s still a lot of unresolved tension between them and he wants to handle it carefully. Still, Aomine needs the truth. “You’ve been a jerk.”

Touou’s ace blinks, stunned. After a moment he barks out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I have been.” He agrees. “A blind, self-centered _asshole_ ,” He runs a hand through his hair. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s my fault all this happened, that we fell apart, right?”

Kuroko shakes his head. “You weren’t the only one dealing with these feelings. Murasakibara-kun thought he was better than everyone else. Akashi-kun made a point to make us all feel lower than him. Midorima-kun kept to himself, and Kise-kun tried too hard. We were all catalysts to each other’s fall.”

“I started it all, though.”

“And if you hadn’t, someone else would have. We all made mistakes.”

Aomine sighs. “I hurt you.” He says weakly.

Kuroko nods. “We all hurt each other. But now it’s time for us to forgive each other and pick up the pieces.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Aomine asks. “It’s not like the others would listen to me.”

“They need your support.” Kuroko tells him. “ _I_ need your support.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aomine tells him, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go with you to talk to them.” He heaves another sigh. “Except… I can’t see Kise.”

“Aomine-kun,” The pale haired teen knows Aomine and Kise always had a rocky past. Despite that, they’d always been close. Kise joined the basketball club because he admired Aomine’s abilities, and Aomine was the one to cement the blond’s place on the team. That was why they needed each other now. “I think it would help both of you if you would talk to each other.”

“I can’t help him.” The dark haired teen says resolutely.

“He’s the one you can help the most,” Kuroko argues. “He listens to you, Aomine-kun. He looks up to you.”

“ _I can’t_ ,” Aomine’s voice breaks, and he has to pause to recollect himself. “All I’ve ever done is hurt him, Tetsu. I can’t fix that. I can’t change anything. I’ll only make things worse between us.”

“If you cared enough to go after Haizaki-kun for him, I know you care enough to want to fix your relationship.” Kuroko states. Aomine doesn’t say anything, and Kuroko supposes he doesn’t need to push anymore for now. “I plan on talking to Akashi-kun next.”

The dark haired teen tenses. “When do you wanna talk to him?”

“As soon as possible,” Kuroko says. “But first, I’d like to talk to Momoi-san.” He turns towards the gym doors, seeing a bit of pink hair peeking out from behind them. “Momoi-san, I know you’re listening.”

With a sheepish smile, Momoi emerges from the gymnasium. “Mou, Tetsu-kun, you’re almost more observant than Akashi-kun.”

He offers her the smallest of smiles. “How are you, Momoi-san?”

“I’d be doing better if my boys were all back to being friends.” She doesn’t try to make a joke, or lighten the mood. She looks at the two of them with sadness, but there’s hope in her eyes. “We’ll get them back, right?”

Kuroko nods. “We’re going to do the best we can. Right, Aomine-kun?”

Aomine nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“I’ll do the best I can to help.” She promises.

The shadow gives her a grateful look. “Have you heard from Midorima-kun or Kise-kun recently?”

Momoi purses her lips in thought. “I haven’t seen either of them since the Winter Cup. Takao-kun has told me Midorin has been shutting him and the rest of the team out after the Rakuzan game. Kasamatsu-san said Ki-chan isn’t going to practice anymore.”

These aren’t things Kuroko hadn’t already known. Takao and Kasamatsu had been open with the details when they’d called. The shadow had hoped Kise or Midorima had kept in touch with Momoi. Besides Aomine and Kuroko, she’d been closest with the blond and the green haired teen. No matter how much any of them might protest, the three of them had formed a group outside of basketball. If Momoi didn’t know what was going on with either boy, no one would—besides possibly each other. Kise and Midorima gravitated toward each other when things went awry in middle school, even if they didn’t realize it. Who’s to say they dropped that particular trend?

“Didn’t Murasakibara talk to you at the Winter Cup finals?” Aomine speaks up, looking at his childhood friend with questioning eyes.

“Yeah,” she confirms, “He approached me on our way out. He apologized, and asked me what he could do to make amends.” She tucks her long pink hair behind her ear. “I told him to talk to you all, clear the air and apologize like he did with me. He seemed unsure. Maybe he can’t work up the nerve to initiate.”

Kuroko is shocked. He didn’t expect any of the others to _want_ to fix things—at least, not enough to talk about it with someone else. The fact that _Murasakibara_ was the one to ask for help reconnecting made the entire affair seem a lot more hopeful. He looks towards Aomine. “Maybe we should talk to him before Akashi-kun.” The dark haired teen shrugs.

“I think,” Momoi starts hesitantly, “maybe you should try calling everyone out to meet up at once to clear the air.”

Aomine looks skeptical. “I dunno if that’s such a great idea. I mean, Kise probably won’t want to see me, and I doubt Midorima and Murasakibara will want to see Akashi—and vice versa. And then we’re worse off than we were before.”

“We don’t have to tell them everyone is going to be present.” Kuroko suggests. “And we can invite Kagami-kun, Momoi-san, Kasamatsu-san, Takao-kun, and Himuro-san as well. Then it won’t feel like they have no one on their side.”

“I’ll stand on Akashi-kun’s behalf,” Momoi volunteers.

“Oi, what about me?” Aomine grumbles, but doesn’t pursue the topic. “Yeah, okay, maybe that could work.”

“Okay,” Kuroko nods, already feeling better about the situation. “I’ll call Kasamatsu-san, Takao-kun, and Himuro-san and keep you two updated on our plans.” Momoi smiles, and even Aomine looks less bleak. They’ll get their friends back—one way or another. Kuroko would be damned to let them go so easily.


	8. You Don't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1,834  
> chapter warnings: language, possible ooc  
> disclaimer: don't own  
> A/N: this chapter was supposed to focus on everyone equally, but that didn't quite happen, whoops.

“Tatsuya says he and Murasakibara are checking into their hotel.” Kagami reports, laying his phone on the tabletop in front of him. “They should be here soon.”

Kuroko nods. “Takao-kun says he’s on his way with Midorima-kun, and Akashi-kun should be here soon.” He adds. “Now we’re just waiting for Kasamatsu-san to confirm his and Kise-kun’s arrival.”

Aomine restlessly drums his fingers against the tabletop. Momoi’s eyes are glued to the motion as she worries her lower lip between her teeth. “They’re all coming, right?”

“Who knows,” Aomine comments absently. He didn’t honestly expect any of them to be here, but hey, maybe Tetsu really can work magic.

“They’ll be here.” Kagami assures.

“It’ll be alright, Momoi-san.” Kuroko says softly. “We’ll work this out.” _We have to_ , Aomine mentally adds. If they didn’t reach an understanding soon, they’d lose each other for good. The thought isn’t appealing.

The door to the Maji Burger restaurant is pulled open, and the four look over to see Akashi walking inside. He quickly zeroes in on them, and walks over to their table. The redhead sits in the seat furthest from everyone else. “Hello,” he greets simply, but there’s an uncharacteristically uncertain edge to his voice. His smile is almost hesitant as he looks around the table.

“Good afternoon, Akashi-kun.” Tetsu replies. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m surprised you asked me to meet with you all,” the Rakuzan captain comments. Kagami starts to respond, but the other redhead cuts him off. “I assume the others will be here soon?”

Tetsu nods. “Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun will be here soon.”

“And Kise-kun?”

“We haven’t heard from him yet,” Satsuki quietly admits. She blinks, as if snapping out of a daze. “B-but he’ll be here,” Aomine frowns. He knows they all need to be present, he’s not sure he wants Kise to be here.

Akashi’s smile softens, becoming more sincere. “I’m glad. There are some… things I’ve been meaning to address with everyone.”

The thought settles heavily over the table, and no one says anything until the next two Generation of Miracles members come sulking through the door. Murasakibara shuffles into the restaurant, Himuro closely following him. Behind them, Midorima and Takao walk in, the former scowling at the floor whereas the latter smiles with forced cheer.

“Hey!” Takao waves as he and Midorima sit across from Tetsu and Satsuki. “Shin-chan and I ran into these two on our way here, and decided to make our entrance together! Ne, Shin-chan?”

Midorima keeps his eyes down. He pointedly looks anywhere but towards Akashi. “Shut up, Takao.

Himuro sits at the head of the table with Kagami on his left and Murasakibara on his right. Aomine can’t help but notice the giant’s ever-present bag of snacks is missing. “Looks like Kise-chin is late again,” he comments, as if trying to sound normal. The statement doesn’t help ease the mood; if anything, it makes the former Teikou students tenser. Even Satsuki looks uncomfortable.

Noticing this, Kagami attempts to placate the situation. “I know this might seem pretty awkward, but there are clearly some issues between you guys that need to be talked out.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kise?” Aomine mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

“He and Kasamatsu aren’t answering my texts, so I’m willing to bet they won’t be here for a while.” Kagami responds. This comment draws another worried look from Satsuki, but is otherwise accepted.

“I’ll start,” Tetsu volunteers. His calm front is intact, but there’s an almost desperate edge to it. Aomine knows the shadow needs this more than any of them, the he deserves closure more than any of them. He’s willing to do whatever Tetsu needs from him. Although Aomine may not be the shadow’s best friend anymore, he still considers Tetsu as his best friend.

The shadow takes a moment to collect his thoughts, and Aomine already feels his own anxiety climbing. He doesn’t feel indebted to the other three Generation of Miracles members; he doesn’t even feel guilty about what he’s done to them. Tetsu and Kise are the only ones he feels he owes. _So why do I feel so nervous_? He attempts to calm himself as Tetsu starts talking. “I didn’t mean for us to end up this way. It was naïve of me to think we’d all go back to being friends after the Winter Cup, but I held on to the belief. I _needed_ to hold on to it to keep me from faltering. It hurts to see you all still in pain, but it kills me to see us all separated. We don’t need to keep going like this. We can help each other.”

Midorima’s face twists into a disdainful grimace. “Stop.” He says. “I don’t need to hear this. I don’t even see why you called me here.”

“Shin-chan,” Takao starts, placating. The shooting guard silences him with a scowl.

He continues, addressing the other Teikou starters. “It’s been a long time since I’ve considered any of you my ‘friends’. Frankly, I was never quite amiable with most of you. Hell, the only one of you I’ve been civil with in recent years is _Kise_ , and we hardly get along most days.”

“Oh what _ever_ ,” Aomine snaps. “You act like you’ve always been above us, but we all know how goddamn _needy_ you are.” At this, Midorima looks affronted, as though Aomine had accused him of a felony. “We all saw the way you looked at Akashi back then.” He jerks his thumb towards the redhead, seeing his almost stricken expression. “You wanted his attention just as much as Kise wanted mine.” As soon as the words leave his tongue, he pauses. It’s the truth, and yet it’s not quite. Akashi hadn’t been as neglectful as Aomine had been. He concedes with, “But you were lucky enough to get what you wanted.”

Midorima draws back, staring at him with angry incredulity. “You’ve got to be joking,” he states. “Akashi never paid any attention—none of you did! None of you so much as bat an eye at my perfect plays— _you didn’t care_. Only Kise did, and that was only because he wanted to take them from me!”

“Calm down, Shin-chan,” Takao tries again, but his words go largely ignored.

“It took until high school for me to get the recognition I deserved. My new team was rightly awed by my abilities—and they’re _grateful_ for me. I’ve been with them for only a year, and already they’re more of a team—a _family_ —to me than you ever could be.” Midorima takes a deep breath, exhaling some of the built up frustration he’d been holding back. He narrows his eyes, pushing his glasses back into place. “And it’s too late to change any of that.”

“Midorima, _stop_ ,” Takao stresses, losing his patience. “I know you’re hurt, honestly I do, but you can’t immediately shut everyone out. You make it sound like you’re happy at Shutoku, but you’re _not_. You’re not happy at all. You all need closure from this, but you’re not allowing yourself to get it. I know this is an impossible request, but please keep an open mind for right now, okay?” He pleads to his stunned teammate. After regaining his bearings, the green haired teen grimaces and reluctantly nods.

He looks to Kuroko and quietly mutters, “Continue,”

But the shadow shakes his head. “You brought up some good points, Midorima-kun.” He says, “Why don’t we address some of your frustrations?” He doesn’t receive a verbal answer, but after a moment Midorima gives another curt nod. “Please share your thoughts.”

Midorima’s posture slumps in defeat and he sighs. “What do you want me to say? Admit that you all made me feel unappreciated? Perhaps you’d like me to tell you how I’ve all but worn my own fingerprints away from how hard I practiced in an effort to leave some sort of impression on you. Would it be worth anything to say that you, Akashi, have pretty much destroyed my will to keep fighting?”

Akashi takes the time to choose his words carefully. “I commended you, didn’t I? You didn’t give up until the game ended.”

“That’s not what hurt me,” Midorima hisses. “I couldn’t stand the way you so callously refused me. I don’t care how you acted during our match—it’s how you act off the court that I can’t forgive.” This effectively silences the redhead. He looks borderline guilty as he lowers his gaze, and Aomine is shocked to see his former captain so defeated. Midorima settles back, apprehensive and yet more relaxed. “I’m sure the others echo my sentiments.”

“You never acted any better, Mido-chin.” Murasakibara mumbles, speaking up for the first time since accusations started flying. “You treated each game as something mundane that had to be completed. No one felt satisfaction in playing you.”

“I’ll take that,” Midorima admits. “I won’t claim that I didn’t commit my own share of wrongdoings in middle school. But I’ve changed since then, and I’ve realized my mistakes. And maybe this is just out of spite and self-preservation, but I’ve determined the only way to keep us from killing each other is to cut any and all social ties between the six of us.”

“That’s not fair, Midorima.” Kagami steps in. “That isn’t what any of you want—,”

“Isn’t it?” Midorima argues. “Kise’s already taken the matter in his own hands. Face it: He’s not coming today because he’s interested in his own wellbeing. He’s realized what feral, selfish _monsters_ we are.”

“Why don’t you stop running from your problems?” Aomine accuses. “You keep spouting bullshit in a pathetic attempt to save face, but you can’t seriously think that’s the answer.”

“That’s _rich_ coming from _you—,_ ”

The sudden impact of two giant fists colliding harshly with the tabletop interrupts the two. The stares from other patrons go largely ignored as Murasakibara snarls, “ _Stop_ ,” and effectively shuts up the arguing aces.

The ensuing silence is a ticking time-bomb. The longer no one speaks, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere gets. Aomine is fairly certain he could cut the tension with a knife. But it isn’t words that shatters the pressure. Kagami’s ringtone breaks through the quiet, and the Seirin ace scrambles to silence it. Aomine sees his eyes flit across the screen, and instead of declining the call and pocketing the phone, he answers it.

“Kasamatsu?” The name is enough to peak the entire party’s interest. “Hey, are you guys on your way—?” He’s cut off, and confusion crosses his expression. “It would take about an hour, but we could get over there. Why?” There’s another pause, and apprehension settles over Kagami’s face. “What happened? Is he—?” Kagami blinks, slowly pulling the phone from his ear and seeing the call had been disconnected.

“What was that?” Aomine demands.

The redhead looks up, almost dazed as he responds. “We need to get over to Kanagawa. Kise was just taken to the hospital.”


	9. This Burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 3,728  
> chapter warnings: mentioned suicide, mentioned self-harm, mentioned drug abuse, lots of triggering things  
> A/N: okay, I didn't mean to take this long to write this chapter, but it was really difficult for me.

Akashi can’t keep his hands from shaking. It’s uncharacteristic of him to be so anxious, but he hasn’t felt like himself since the Winter Cup finals anyway. He places his hands between his knees and squeezes his legs together in an effort to stop the continuous tremors.

The six former Teikou students, Kagami, Himuro, and Takao are all gathered in the waiting room of hospital Kise had been taken to. It had taken longer than any of them had anticipated for them to get over to Kanagawa. Kagami had texted Kasamatsu in apology and for more information concerning Kise’s condition. The former Kaijou captain had told them that Kise was stable, and he’d explain everything in person. Akashi could definitely say he was not looking forward to speaking with the older teen, and was even less eager to see Kise himself.

His mind runs through the various possibilities concerning what may have happened to put Kise in the hospital, and every new scenario would end up trailing down darker and darker paths. He didn’t want to think about it, but he knew there was a good chance Kise had put himself in this place. _I was supposed to take care of them; how could I let this happen_?

To distract himself, he observes the others. Midorima stands at the edge of the group, closest to the door, with Takao. The shooting guard is silent as Takao speaks quietly to him. He’s tense, and Akashi can almost see the gears turning in his head. Kuroko, Momoi, Murasakibara, Kagami, and Himuro are clustered together on Akashi’s left. Momoi grips one of Kuroko’s hands tightly, as if to anchor herself. Kagami tries offer his own reassurances, but the clear unease in his own actions does nothing to help the others. Although Murasakibara sits with the others, he ignores anything said, whether directed at him or not. Aomine sits as far away from the others as he can while still remaining within earshot.

After what feels like decades, Akashi hears Takao’s voice, “Ah, Kasamatsu-san,” and he looks up to see the older teen walking over to their group.

“Hey,” The older male greets tiredly, releasing a quiet sigh. His overall complexion has paled, the energy sapped from his normally confident frame. The most concerning detail is the haunted look in his dark grey eyes. “Sorry about not being in contact. It’s been—it’s been a stressful day.”

Himuro nods empathetically, but the motion almost seems placating. “We understand,” he tells the other gently, and Akashi has to remind himself how detached the Yosen shooting guard is from the situation.

Kasamatsu nods. “Yeah, well, I guess I owe you guys an explanation.” No one says anything in reply, the silence urging the upperclassman to continue. “I’ll just start from the beginning. I went to pick up Kise at his apartment, knowing he was going to put up a fight against leaving. When Kise wasn’t answering the door, I figured he was just ignoring me, so I used the spare key to get in. I found him sobbing on the floor of the bathroom. I didn’t understand what had him so distraught until I saw the pill bottle in his hands.”

Absolute _horror_ strikes deep in Akashi’s chest. “He overdosed?” He asks, his own voice sounding distant.

Kasamatsu nods grimly. “When he noticed me, he tried to tell me things that didn’t make sense. I think he was trying to explain what happened, but I couldn’t understand any of it. I called for an ambulance, he suffered a seizure while I was on the phone, and he was shaky and barely responsive by the time the paramedics arrived.”

“Shit…” Aomine’s voice drifts over to the group, and Akashi sees his widened blue eyes glued to the floor. “Shit. I never thought…” he swallows dryly, looking up at Kasamatsu with sudden anger. “How could you let him get like this?” He accuses.

“Dai-chan,” Momoi says weakly. She looks as sick as Akashi feels.

“Aomine-kun,” Kuroko says lowly, warningly. “You shouldn’t speak like that to an upperclassman, especially when he’s done nothing wrong. Without him, Kise-kun would likely be dead.” The passing specialist’s expression is hard, his eyes shadowed by his pale fringe. Aomine flinches at his words and draws back from the group.

“I understand what you’re feeling.” Kasamatsu says. “But don’t waste your energy resenting me for something I haven’t done when you could be helping him.” He gives each of them a meaningful look, though only half of the Generation of Miracles are able to return it. “There’s more I should tell you, but I think you should see him first.”

“Is it already okay to visit?” Momoi asks.

The former Kaijou student nods. “I just got back from seeing him. He’s still out of sorts, but he’s coherent. Although, I’m not sure he’ll appreciate the company.”

Aomine grimaces, effectively shutting up. Seeing the tension that builds among the Generation of Miracles members, Kagami decides to give them a little push. “Why don’t you five go ahead? We’ll stay out here for a while to give you guys some time.”

“You make it sound like he’s dead,” Midorima bites out cynically. Aomine glares at him.

“It’s alright,” Akashi intervenes. “Kagami-kun has a point. Besides, we don’t want to overwhelm Kise-kun.” Though Seijuurou himself has always called his teammates in this manner, their names feel unnatural on his tongue. Their first names had been ingrained in his muscle memory, and it was more difficult than he expected to break the habit that wasn’t really his. But it’s necessary, he knows, to keep himself and the emperor separate, so he does his best not to stumble over the names.

Akashi’s hands have not ceased their trembling in the time it takes for them to walk over to the elevator and for the Rakuzan captain to press the elevator call button. He takes a slow breath, squaring his shoulders and preparing himself for what he’s about to do. 

No one speaks as the five of them step onto the elevator and wait to arrive to their floor. It isn’t until Kise’s hospital room is in sight that anyone utters a single word. Aomine falters in the hallway, stopping the rest of them. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Kuroko gives the other a hard stare. There’s a severity in his eyes that Akashi isn’t used to seeing. “This isn’t the time, Aomine-kun.” He says, tone leaving no room for argument. “Kise-kun needs your support.”

“So long as you think about what you say before you open your mouth, you should be able to keep from making an ass of yourself.” Midorima adds unhelpfully. Akashi sees the way he pushes his glasses up, and knows the Shutoku ace is feeling as anxious as the rest of them.

Aomine doesn’t seem to have the heart to retort as he reluctantly steps up to the door to Kise’s room. He raps lightly on the door, pulling it open when they hear a quiet ‘come in’. The tanned ace holds the door open for the rest of them, opting to be the last one to enter the room.

Although the blond is the only thing of note in the room, it’s difficult to focus on him. Aomine and Midorima make no effort to try, whereas both Akashi and Kuroko do their best to keep their gaze on him. Murasakibara seems to be the only one having no difficulty maintaining eye contact with the copycat.

Kise is quiet as they enter, his keen gaze observing his five former teammates as they arrange themselves around his temporary accommodations. His lips are quirked upwards in something reminiscent of a smile, but the expression falls flat as it doesn’t reach his eyes. “This isn’t quite how I pictured today’s ‘meeting’ going,” he comments. “But hey, we aren’t stuck in a crowded fast food restaurant with noisy patrons, so maybe you should be thanking me.”

Aomine’s lips pull back in a snarl, but he isn’t the one who speaks up. “No one is going to thank you for putting your life in danger, Kise-kun.” Kuroko states matter-of-factly.

The blond shakes his head. “I didn’t put my life in danger.” He denies. “Besides, if they didn’t need a guardian to fill out the paperwork, I’d be A-Okay to leave whenever I wanted.”

“According to Kasamatsu-san, you overdosed.” Kuroko states bluntly.

“I’m sure he neglected to tell you it was an accident.” Kise shrugs, nonchalant. “I don’t want to die.”

“How can we take your word for it when you’ve been acting strangely anyway?” Aomine snaps.

Kise blinks. “How would you know anything about how I’ve been recently? You don’t know me anymore.” His disposition isn’t defensive; he’s openly curious. Golden eyes are clouded over by the lingering traces of the sedatives that had likely been pumped into the blond’s system upon his arrival to the hospital. Akashi feels a spike of sadness pierce his chest. He doesn’t like seeing the other look so incapacitated.

Aomine falters, and Akashi decides to intervene. “You said you overdosed on accident. How?”

Wide golden eyes focus on the Rakuzan captain, as if gauging his response. His answer is very matter-of-fact as he says, “I wasn’t feeling very good this morning, and my usual meds weren’t working, so in a moment of poor judgement, I took more.”

“‘Usual meds’?” Midorima echoes.

Touou’s ace frowns. “I didn’t know you were taking medication.”

Kise scoffs, “Probably because I didn’t tell anybody about it,”

“How long have you been on medication?” Akashi asks.

The blond blinks, thinking over his answer. “I’ve been taking this particular stuff since Winter Cup, but I’ve been on something or other for a few years.” He seems outwardly calm and easygoing about the subject, but Akashi can tell he’s growing uncomfortable.

“What kind of medicine are you taking?” Midorima inquires, his demeanor having gone soft.

The blond’s amused expression drops, and he glances to the side. “It’s a new type of amphetamine that’s used to alter and intensify the user’s mood or mental state.” Kise admits. “They want to see if it can treat stuff like depression and bipolar disorder. It’s supposed to keep the user in a lasting, positive state of mind.”

“Are you depressed, Kise-chin?” Murasakibara asks in a quiet voice, speaking up for the first time since they walked in the room.

A weak, wry smile crosses Kise’s expression. “Hm, I wonder.” He says. “All I know is that I haven’t felt like myself in a really long time.”

The exchange shouldn’t mean as much to Akashi as it does. His words cut deep, his lost disposition reopening a wound that’s barely had any time to heal. Akashi takes this news personal, and knows deep down that this is his fault. All of the pain that continues to fester within the hearts of his former teammates was caused by Akashi’s negligence.

Kise looks up, glancing around at the others. “Ah, but… Today wasn’t supposed to be about me, was it? What are you guys wasting your time here for?”

Aomine looks at him in confusion. “We’re here because of you.” He says. “We can’t work this out without you, you know.”

The blond’s expression lights up. “Oh, I get it. You guys are so used to brooding in silence that when it comes to talking, you don’t know where to start. Fine, I don’t mind doing the talking.” He rolls his shoulders back, straightening his posture. “Hm, where to start…” Golden eyes roam over the other five. Aomine opens his mouth to protest, but Kise cuts him off. “Ne, Midorima-kun, I think I’m most surprised to see you here. Did you finally get over yourself, or is this just another way you think you can glean attention from them?” Midorima doesn’t offer any sort of response. “Poor Midorima-kun, so used to be the center of attention after being an only child for so long. But then your baby sister came along, so you settled for the attention from your classmates. But you weren’t at the top of your class forever, and you weren’t the best at basketball either. Akashi-kun took those from you.”

“Sorry to cut you off, but we’ve already gone over this.” Midorima says, voice hard.

Kise isn’t deterred in the slightest. “But did you tell them how desperate you’ve gotten? Do they know what lengths you’ve considered—how far you’ve already gone? Did you tell them how you’ve begun to destroy yourself because of them?”

Midorima’s expression reads nothing but confusion as he takes in Kise’s words, but Akashi feels as though ice water has replaced the blood in his veins. “Midorima-kun, are you… hurting yourself?” He almost can’t force the words out. Alizarin eyes search the green haired teen, as though he expects to see clues or proof through the shooting guard’s clothes. The ace in question shies away from his gaze, and that’s all Akashi really needs to confirm.

“I do what is necessary to become stronger,” he mumbles, fidgeting with his glasses with bandaged fingers, and Akashi’s heart sinks. “It isn’t like I’m purposefully trying to damage myself.”

“But aren’t you? You know your limits, and yet you still disregard them.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Midorima retaliates.

Kise smiles, placating. “Our reasons are completely different. Where I’ve got my own goals, you’re attention-seeking and naive. You’ll have to come up with bigger, more dramatic plans to get anyone to pay attention to you. You’ll have to go bigger, become more tragic for anyone to give you any merit. Sure, maybe now you’re only hurting yourself as a result of your extreme, self-enforced practice regime, but at some point you’ll realize it’s not enough—that no one sees what you put yourself through. You’ll make bigger wounds, more noticeable scars in obvious places. And when everyone pretends they can’t see what you’re doing, you’ll play your ultimatum in a desperate, last-ditch effort to get what you want. You’re already hurting yourself; suicide is the next logical step. Haha, but if you killed yourself for attention, you’d never get to revel in it—or mourn the lack of it.” His tone is casual, amused even, as he finishes with a smile. Midorima draws back, appearing ill.

And yet after all of that, the blond still isn’t finished. “Did you honestly think by appearing alone and sad that one of them would come back to you? It’s a disgusting sentiment. I’d rather kill myself than beg for pity.” Kise sneers. “How utterly pathetic of you. And to think for a while I held you in higher regard.” His attitude has gone from amiable and open to mocking and brutally honest. Midorima flounders for a response, completely floored by the blunt remarks thrown at him. While the green haired teen struggles with a reply, Kise moves on. “But it’s not fair if I just throw Midorima-kun under the bus. I might as well talk about the other easy targets here.”

He turns to where the purple haired giant is sitting, and Akashi can see the way Yosen’s center’s jaw clenches. “What about Murasakibara-kun? You’re kinda in the opposite boat of Midorima-kun. When he was hurting, you were inflicting. Your words and actions were malicious, fully intending to deal as much damage as you possibly could. You were full of so much _hate_ —or at least, that’s what you want everyone to think.” Other than lifting an eyebrow, Murasakibara doesn’t bother to respond. “You want them to think you were resentful for pushing their ideals on you, but that was only a motive for you. You simply used everyone to exercise your sadistic tendencies on. You kept Kuroko-kun in his ‘place’ solely because he criticized your play. You frustrated Aomine-kun because he knew you could get to his level if you tried, but you never did. Just like everyone else, you never gave Midorima-kun his satisfaction. And we all know what you did to Akashi-kun. You weren’t sorry about anything. And now you want, what? Forgiveness? The ability to redeem yourself? Why should anyone bother to give you another chance when you’ve never expressed any will to be anything other than either uncaring or malicious?” The accused still remains silent, and so Kise moves on.

“Speaking of Akashi-kun,” the Rakuzan captain suppresses his flinch, “who could forget what he put you through? He drove everyone over the edge. There was a window of opportunity in which all of this could have been avoided, but the ‘absolute Emperor’ didn’t just want control; he wanted to _break_ you all. It wasn’t about control or teamwork or whatever the excuse might be. It was about total conquest, leaving nothing intact so defeat wasn’t simply imminent, but undeniable. He never wanted to build anyone up. He tore you all down and stripped you of what made you worthwhile, rational people to leave you open and wounded for when he would truly decimate whatever was left.” Kise doesn’t look at the redhead once as he speaks, and Akashi isn’t sure whether to be appreciative to the blind eye ignoring the way he begins to visibly unravel, or hates the way the blond disregards his reaction. Akashi wants to deny the statements and accusations thrown so casually at him, but he can’t even begin to think of an argument. He doesn’t even know if Kise if correct in his assessment.

“Then there’s Aomine-kun, whose ego was so bright that he blinded himself. Ne, you had three perfectly good challenges in front of you this whole time, you know? I know for a fact that you’ve never beaten Akashi-kun and that you stopped trying to challenge Murasakibara-kun and Midorima-kun even though any matches you did have would be ‘inconclusive’. What, did I miss the rule that says the _‘Generation of Miracles’_ aren’t allowed to play each other in simple unofficial matches? Or, was that the problem? I’ll admit, I’m a little confused what your goal was. You didn’t want to lose, but you longed so badly for someone to beat you? If you just wanted someone to play your hardest against, why didn’t you just ask?” Kise doesn’t pull his punches; if anything, he puts extra strength behind them. Everything is said matter-of-factly, but it’s all meant to hurt. And maybe that’s why they all feel so defensive.

Aomine’s face twists in both confusion and annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He snaps. “That’s not something you can just _ask_ for.”

Kise shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. If you hadn’t been such an asshole about everything, you could have gotten what you wanted.” He says offhandedly. “But hey, it’s not like it matters now. I don’t even understand why you’re still not over yourself. Are you so self-centered that you have to hold on to your angst in an attempt to make everything about you?”

“And what about you?” Aomine retaliates. “You’ve pointed out all of our mistakes and flaws, but you won’t talk about what you did.”

“What did I do, Aomine? How did I affect you? What did I do to hurt you specifically?” Kise questions. The power forward grits his teeth, glancing away. He doesn’t say anything in reply, and the blond looks disappointed. “It figures that even now you’d be too dumb to realize.” Kise rolls his shoulders back with a sigh. His body slumps back against the pillows as he pouts. “Ne… Can you guys leave? I’m getting tired.”

Midorima doesn’t waste any time in leaving the room, his steps hurried and light. Aomine follows almost as quickly, though he hesitates for a moment before leaving. Murasakibara looks thoughtful, like he wants to say something, but he decides to follow the other two Miracles out the door. Akashi starts to leave as well, but stops when he doesn’t hear Kuroko behind him. He turns his head and sees the shadow standing, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“Kise-kun,” he starts, “You can be honest with us. We all want to fix things between the six of us, but we can’t do it if you’re going to keep shutting us out and turning us against each other.”

“Then I guess you don’t understand why I said the things I did,” Kise replies, voice strangely quiet. “And what are you still doing here? You should have left us a long time ago. Are you trying to become our savior, Kuroko-kun? Did _God_ send you to save us? Do you honestly think you can fix all of this shit we’ve brought upon ourselves?”

Kuroko draws back, frowning sadly and swallowing dryly. “I’m not a savior, Kise-kun. I’m just trying to help my friends.” He turns and brushes past Akashi out of the room.

Akashi looks over at the blond, sees the way he settles back and turns his gaze to the window. “Momoi-san and Kagami-kun are here. They’ll want to see you.” The redhead says softly.

“I figured as much,” Kise responds, unmoving.

Rakuzan’s captain takes a slow breath. “Kise, be honest with me. Did you try to kill yourself?”

Golden eyes drift back over to meet Akashi’s gaze, the blond’s expression serious. “If I wanted to die, we wouldn’t be here right now.” His voice is filled with such honest conviction; a cold feeling spreads through Akashi’s chest. “I know this isn’t what any of you wanted from me, but even I need to be selfish every once in a while. I’m getting tired of pretending for you.” Akashi’s stomach churns. He wants to say something, anything, but his mouth goes dry, his throat closes up, and can’t find the words. Instead he leaves and shuts the door.

Kuroko is the only one waiting in the hallway, his back to the redhead. The older teen knows the shadow heard their exchange. Akashi reaches for him, but thinks better of it and simply stands behind him. “Kuroko-kun—,”

“Akashi-kun,” The Seirin student interrupts, “We won’t be okay, will we?” His shoulders start to tremble, and Akashi feels his stomach sink. “Maybe we’ll heal on our own, but together—as the friends we used to be—we will never be okay.”

The Rakuzan captain wants to deny it. He wants to reassure the other, tell him pretty words that will ultimately do nothing more than lighten the current mood. But Akashi can’t find it in himself to put on a brave face right now. Still, he’s supposed to be their leader, so he puts on a reassuring expression and gently lays a hand on the other’s shoulder. Kuroko turns, tears building in his eyes, and Akashi’s resolve wavers. “We will be okay.” He wishes he could believe his own words.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr [@pinkinmyimagination](http://pinkinmyimagination.tumblr.com/)


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